A Dissension of Faith
by InnocentTraitor22
Summary: Mania leaves no room for logic, and when it comes to witchery none are safe; Not even the wife of a Reverend. What happens when a Puritan woman is forced to question all she thinks she knows?
1. Chapter 1

"I here confess I have lived in sin."

The prayer echoed through the plain empty room from the lips of a woman knelt devoutly in the light of the mid-morning sun beaming through the window.

"I have been idle of my duties, disobedient of mine elders, and as of late, neglectful of my prayer." She listed these things with hands clasped before her and her head bent solemnly, forehead pressed to the knuckles of her thumbs.  
"I have, in secret, worked upon thy Sabbath, and broken the commandments not in action but in thought… I have followed the desires of my own will, and not the Holy Spirit." She turned her face up and into the morning sunlight, not flitching as the rays penetrated her dark blue eyes.

"I know I deserve all shame and misery in this life, and everlasting hell-fire. But I beg thee, for the sake of thy Son. Forgive me. Show me mercy. Show me thy light…"

"Sarah…"

The voice shook her from her prayer as it echoed outside the door.

"Are you alright?"

Sarah muttered an Amen and stood from her kneeling before moving to open the door. Peering outside, she found her Husband waiting patiently outside, hat in hand.

"Are you ready my dear? The horses await."

She nodded silently and followed him out of their Beverly home, a place she would fondly miss for the foreseeable future. The Reverend's Wife kept her head bent demurely as they passed her husband's acquaintances who came to see them off on their journey.

"God be with you Mr. Hale." One man shook his hand. "If anyone can root out the forces of evil, it would be you."

"I thank you for that sir, and I trust you will oversee the congregation whilst we are away?"

"Of course sir."

Sarah climbed into the carriage silently and waited for John to sit beside her and snap the reigns, setting them off down the dirt road for what would most assuredly be a long, tedious trip.

The carriage bounced and jerked along the road as they sat in silence until John broke the peace, eyes still set straight ahead but occasionally glancing at his wife; her plump, rosy skin and fair brown hair that peeked slightly from under her white bonnet boasted a warm pleasantness that contrasted sharply her currently indifferent, almost chilly, demeanor.

"I am to assume that you are still unhappy with me?" He inquired in a tired tone and Sarah looked down at her sewing, less than graceful stitches mending a tear in a shirt.

"No." she swallowed and squinted, blurry vision and the movement of the carriage making the work a vexing struggle.

"Then why the unhappy silence?"

More tension followed as Sarah closed her eyes and took a breath. "It is not _you_ I am unhappy with, John." She responded through a tight jaw and muffled tone. "It is the _situation._ "

"The situation" John scoffed and Sarah shook her head

"The letter said they are not sure it has to do with witchery…"

"They are not sure is has not to do with it either…"

"The Reverend…what is it? Parris? Says himself…"

"Two Children are ill Sarah, and the doctor is unable to find any earthly problem with them. Would you have me turn them away?" John cut her off again. "I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this and when I find it we shall return to Beverly." He finished and his wife did not reply.

"And if there is...?" she whispered, "Witchery?"

"Then we will expel it whatever way we can." Hale sighed firmly and reached across the seat to grasp his wife's small, soft hand. "Worry not my dear. All will be well."

Sarah swallowed and nodded, sticking the needle in the fabric of the shirt and setting it aside. "I pray you are right."

Salem was two hour's ride from Beverly and when they arrived the carriage was surrounded by curious locals.

"Stay close." He urged her and gently but firmly pushed through the babbling throng of Salem villagers, struggling to get to the back of the cart where his books sat.

"Give the man some peace." A tall, dark haired man pushed through the crowd.

"It's Reverend Hale, John."

"I know who it is." The man cut him off before turning to the newcomers with a welcoming countenance. "Can I help you?"

"I thank you." Hale sighed and handed the man they called John a stack of thick, aged volumes before bending to grab more.

"Heavy books." John noted and Hale eyed him as he straightened up, a few smaller books tucked under his arm.

"Well they must be." He nodded wisely. "They're weighted with authority."

John smiled a little at the reply, and offered his hand to the Reverend. "I'm John Proctor, Mr. Hale."

Hale shook his hand and looked him up and down. "You have afflicted children sir?"

"My children are healthy as bull calves, sir." Proctor's eyes wavers slightly up the upstairs window of the house they had stopped in front of. "As are the other children of this town."

He led them along and the crowd parted for the trio as they approached the open doorway of the large house where an argument of some kind seemed to be taking place.

"There are wheels within wheels here, Mr. Hale. I hope you'll not forget that." Proctor muttered while nodding to the noise from within.

Sarah and Hale poked their heads in the room, overhearing the tail end of the argument.

"I can never offer a single proposition, lest I be met with a riot of argument!" A white haired man bellowed as he stalked around the table and shook a finger in the still air. "I often wonder in the devil be in it somewhere!"

Sarah pulled her full lips in and shared a look with her husband as Proctor caught the exchange and shook his head. "Welcome to Salem."

Proctor's voice seemed to have caught the attention of the raving man who turned and paled slightly. "Mr. Hale!" he sputtered and quickly rushed over to greet them with an open palm "How good to see you, and I see you've brought your wife with you as well. How Marvelous. Goody Hale how are you fairing?"

Sarah dipped slightly with her eyes still cast down. "Very well Sir, Thank you."

"This is Thomas Putnam. " He motioned to a redheaded man who shook Hale's hand.

"How do you do sir? Allow me sir." He took Hale's books quickly and spoke at an equal pace. "This is my wife, Goody Ann." He motioned to a spindly looking woman with a narrow, hook nose.

"Please sir, will you come to our Ruth?" She pleaded. "She is ill, she cannot wake."

"Aye, I will come directly." Hale assured her with a comforting look as Sarah looked past them to an elderly woman standing in the back.

"Goodness me." She breathed and slipped by her husband carefully. "You must be Rebecca Nurse, How do you do?" she curtsied politely as the woman gazed at her in puzzlement.

"Do you know me?" she inquired and Sarah shook her head. "No Ma'am, but you look as such a good soul should. All in Beverly have heard of your charity."

The woman looked past her and around the room. "There is prodigious danger in seeking loose spirits." She warned carefully. "I fear it." She swallowed and looked to her withered husband. "Francis."

The old man nodded to them all as Rebecca took his hand and led him out. "I go to God for you all." She called back and Parris gained a sort of indignant look about him.

"I hope you do not mean that we go to Satan here"

Rebecca froze and looked back at them almost sadly. "I wish I knew"

They exited past Proctor who eyed them all with a sort of disbelieving condemnation. "I hear you be a sensible man Mr. Hale" he set the books on the table. "I hope you leave some of it in Salem." And he to left them.

As soon as they left Parris seemed much more at ease. "Please Sir," He motioned with an open hand to the stairway "the child is upstairs in bed if you would like to examine her now."

"I'd be happy. Sarah." He looked to her and found her still staring out the door where Rebecca Nurse left. "Sarah?"

She blinked out of her daze and looked to him, suddenly alert once more. "Yes?"

"The Child." He urged her expectantly and the woman blinked a few times before nodding quickly

"Oh, Yes. Of Course."


	2. Chapter 2

The search for signs of witchery is a lengthy one, and to conduct it properly one must look from every possible angle over and over again.

Sarah was the one to look over the child, Betty, who lay in the bed as though in a sleep none could wake.

Between fingers and toes, on her scalp, and over any exposed portion of skin she scanned the flesh for any abnormality or concern as the room watched her with rapt attention and silent reverence.

"Our child cannot wake" Goody Putnam breathed. "She lays as though dead."

"And this one cannot bear to hear the Lord's name." Mr. Putnam put in, "It's a sure sign of witchcraft."

"No, no Mr. Putnam. We must not look to superstitions for the cause of this." Mr. Hale shook his head as he followed his wife's eyes over the girl, double checking in tandem with her careful examination with a book held open in one arm. "The marks of the Devil are as definite as stone."

She seemed a healthy girl if not a mite pale, and she was warm to the touch as though she were merely resting soundly.

Raising the girl's arm carefully, Sarah rolled down the white sleeve of her nightgown and found a small black smudge on the underside of her upper arm.

"Mr. Parris…?" she examined the mark with a contemplative frown. "Can you identify this mark sir?"

"Oh uh…" Parris jumped at the sudden break in the silence and swallowed. "Tis a birthmark, she was born with it, it has always been there."

"Hm" Sarah nodded and lowered the arm before moving to the foot of the bed and examining the child's feet, which bore dirty brown soles.

"John." She muttered and nodded to him to come over to her.

Her husband rounded the bed, clasping a large volume of demonology and gazed at the large cut on the arch of the girl's foot and several small splinters in the soft flesh,

"Reverend Parris, has Betty been out to the woods recently?" Sarah asked curiously.

"Well uh, not that… Not that I am aware."

Sarah hummed and looked over her husband's shoulder at the crisp pages of the book as she strained to read the small script.

"What book is that?" Parris asked nervously, eyes flitting to Betty but receiving no answer from the two.

"What is there sir?" Goody Putnam queried and craned her long neck to see.

"Here is all the invisible world." Hale breathed slowly, scanning the book for signs or hints.

"In these books the Devil stands stripped of all his brute disguises. Sarah, that one there…" he pointed to a smaller book across the room which his wife retrieved and began to flip through with a determine expression before settling on a page and handing it to the Reverend Hale.

"Here are all your familiar spirits, your incubi and succubi. Your witches that go by land, by air, and by sea."

The room listened with stupefied awe as Sarah stood up and moved to the bed. "Have no fear now." She muttered. "We shall find him out if he has come among…and we shall crush him utterly if he has shown his face."

Their attention was beckoned by feet on the stairs and a young girl in a brown dress appeared at the top of the stairs, taken aback by what she saw.

"Here is my Niece, Abigail." Parris nodded to her and the girl curtsies primly with her head bent.

Hale closed the book, clearly not finding what he needed and stood. Sharing a look with his wife who nodded in silent agreement he looked to the Putnams.

"I would like to examine your Ruth before I say more."

They followed the Putnams out and were startled but not all together shocked to find a small mob of people waiting outside eagerly for an announcement.

"It's just this way a Piece." Mr. Putnam motioned down the road.

Sarah walked behind the men with Abigail and Mrs. Putnam, all the while her mind reeling with possibility.

There seemed to be nothing physically wrong with the child but the signs could be manifested in other ways. Clearly the girl had been outside without shoes at some point recently, most likely deep in the wood judging by the amount of black soil on her feet as opposed to dry dirt and dust.

If this Ruth had the same, perhaps the girls had misadventured upon a dangerous plant together that set them a bed; or perhaps, she prayed against it, something more sinister.

However a striking part of the conversation around her snapped her from her through.

"I'm not saying the Devil has touched her but mark this. Last night I tried and tried but I could not say my prayers, but then she close her book and walks out of the house! And suddenly, I could pray again!"

The party stopped as Hale whipped round and gazed at the man. "The stoppage of prayer…"

The man nodded slightly and Sarah met her Husband's blue eyes over the man's shoulder with a nervous swallowed. It was never a good sign but it might not mean anything.

"We'll discuss that." Hale assured him as Parris touched his arm.

"Mr. Hale." He motioned to the house and Hale nodded before jerking his head at the door.

"Sarah"

The wife picked up her pace to catch up with him and they were led up the stairs into a room contained a small child just Betty's age with reddish brown hair and wide, staring pale brown eyes.

"This one's eyes are open." She stated with a hint on confusion and Goody Putnam rushed to the bed.

"Yes, and she breathes but she'll not move, or speak, or wake."

"Does she blink?" Sarah asked as she moved to the child and Hale opened his books once more.

"Yes, but nothing more."

Sarah nodded and knelt by the bed, "Goody Putnam, if you'd please." She murmured and the mother gazed at her child before reluctantly moving away to give space for the examination.

She assessed the girl's condition but found nothing to suggest something was wrong with her, physically or spiritually. And she did not bear the same blackened soles at the Parris girl.

She simply would not move.

"Was there no warning of this affliction?" Reverend Hale interrogated the room as his wife searched vainly through books for an answer.

"Do you recall any disturbance before it struck?"

"It could have been something small" Sarah added, "Strange or unusual behavior, acting out, anything out of the ordinary."

The room was tensely silent until Parris, wringing his hands by the window began hoarsely. "Mr. Hale?"

Hale turned and stared at him with hard eyes, "Mr. Parris." He pressed expectantly and the blond man struggled with words for a moment.

"I-I did discover my niece." He motioned to Abigail, "with a number of her friends…dancing in the forest."

Sarah's head whipped around in shock and gazed at the man and at the two girls as Hale's mouth opened agape slightly.

"You permit dancing?" He asked incredulously and Parris shook his head fervently.

"No, no! T'was secret."

"Why did you not tell us this before?" Sarah nearly demanded and Goody Putnam turned to her, eager to divulge more dramatic information.

"Mr. Parris's slave has knowledge of conjuring."

"Now _that_ may not be true." Parris objected at the two investigators turned on the two girls who stood as through statues in the door way.

"Abigail. You must tell us of this dancing." Hale insisted and the spare girl looked up in fear.

"Common dancing is all it is sir." She insisted but Hale disregarded her.

"Tell me child, when you are dancing is there a fire?"

"I…" Abigail quailed under the questioning and Parris with a heavily sigh came to Hale's side.

"There was a fire…they were boiling something."

"Lentils and Beans" Abigail found her voice quickly.

"Was anything moving in the pot?" The reverend asked but Abigail cut him off before Parris could answer.

"That jumped in!" She insisted. "We never put that in there."

"What jumped in?" Sarah whispered harshly and turned to the girl who swallowed and quickly looked away.

Getting no answer Hale furiously turned back to Parris. "I must see these other girls." He demanded fiercely. "Who are they, I want their names."

And so after Abigail supplied a list of all the girls who had partaken in the taboo dancing they sent for all the girls to be rounded up and gathered in the Chapel.

So it was as they feared.

The Devil was in Salem and it seemed these girls had called him there in that forest.

Sarah clasped her hands together and held them firmly, lips moving at rapid speeds in silent prayer for protection as She and John prepared to root out evil in Salem Village…


	3. Chapter 3

The Chapel was filled with tension as the girls were ushered into the empty church.

A dozen girls in all, all in white bonnets with bent heads with their eyes cast timidly to the floor. Their ages ranged from 18 to perhaps 9 and each was as frightened as the last.

Sarah stood before the altar in silent prayer until the last girl was ushered in to the front row by Mr. Parris.

 _God help these children,_ she thought, _help us save them from whatever evil they have committed, and bless them all with your holy light._

As the girls sat Reverend Hale took the attention of the room.

"Children, I will give you one chance and only one to step forth and confess yourself." He stated bluntly. "So if anyone has anything to say, let them do so now…"

He waited expectantly and the girls sat still as statues, none daring to rat on the other.

John clenched his jaw and Sarah could see the small joints just under the skin of his cheeks pop slightly. "I don't think any of you understand the _severity_ of what is happening here." His blue eyes going cold as he scanned them.

" _Someone_ called the Devil in that forest!"

They watched each girl, trying to find who would break first as Hale paced the long room. "Who was it that led you to dance around the fire? You can save yourselves if you tell me who it was."

Met with more silence Sarah continued her prayer silently as Hale watched for a weak link in the chain. And he found one at the very end of the row, a plump, mousy girl with quivering hands and trembling lips.

There was his in.

"Was there one among you who drank from the kettle? ...Was there perhaps, a casting of spells?" He stopped in front of the girl and turned his head to look at her coldly. " _Was there?!"_

The child jumped, unsteady, and quickly pointed a shaking finger down the line at Abigail Williams, who instantly began to protest her innocence.

"Not I! It wasn't me I swear it!"

Hale stalked down the row before reaching Abigail and towering over here. "These two children may be dying, who?!"

Abigail trembled at his bellow and paled before answering quickly.

"Tituba."

Goody Putnam shot from her seat, quaking with fury. "I knew it!"

Hale and Sarah, followed by the rest of the girls and the adults, bolted to Mr. Parris's home and to the small in ground cubby where Tituba resided.

"Tituba!" Parris bellowed, grasping a willow cane.

"She made me do it!" Abigail wept, grasping at Sarah's hands weakly as the woman comfortingly held the girl. "She made Betty do it!"

"Tituba no do bad thing!" Tituba protested as Putnam and Parris seized her roughly and tore her from the shack and to the dirt.

"She made me drink blood!"

"You drank Blood?!" Sarah gasped and Goody Putnam began to wail once more.

"My babies' blood! Who murdered my Babies, Tituba?!" She demanded shrilly. "I want their names! Tell me!"

"Why can the girls not wake?" Hale barked as Parris grasped at one of Tituba's arms and pulled it back. "Have you sent your spirit out to silence them?"

"No! I love me Betty!" Tituba begged but Parris began to whip her fiercely with the willow switch, making her cry out and try to writhe away.

Sarah was horrified by the sight but she remained firm and did not protest this treatment. If the Devil was in Salem they needed to know how he got there.

"You have conjured her to be silent have you not!?"

Tituba looked over her shoulder at Sarah and Abigail, "She-she beg me conjure! She beg me make charm!"

"She lies!" Abigail cried out desperately, and turned to Sarah as if to convince her that she was true; grasping at her arms urgently. "She sends her spirit to me in Church!" She looked to all the others. "She makes me laugh at prayer!"

"She hath often laughed at prayer!" Parris confirmed this and Sarah cupped Abigail's youthful face gently.

"What else Abigail, we must know." She urged the girl who nodded quickly.

"She comes in to me when I sleep, she makes me dream corruptions!" Large tears rolled down her face and wetted her cheeks.

"Why you say bad thing Abby?" Tituba pleaded but was ignored as Abby went on.

"Some nights I wake and I find myself…standing naked in the open door way without a stitch on my body!" She began to go weak in the legs and Sarah helped support her. "And she makes me Do that!" the girl sobbed. "Singing her damned Barbados songs! Tempting me!"

She finished her tale of woes and collapsed onto Sarah's shoulder, hot tears streaming down her face pitifully as Sarah comforted her and watched over her shoulder as Hale approached Tituba.

"Tituba, When did you compact with the Devil? Tell me!"

The woman shook her head firmly, face wet with tears. "I don't. I don't compact with no Devil."

"Liar!" Parris once again brutally whipped the servant and Abigail soon began to stop crying but still held onto Sarah's hands as she watched the beating.

Sarah closed her eyes and tried to shut out the cries of pain until Tituba wailed out. "I tell! I tell'im!"

Hale caught Parris's hand as it began to fall and Tituba panting at the reprieve from the pain.

"I don't desire…I don't desire to work from him." She wept and Sarah felt her body go slack from relief.

"Then you saw him?"

Tituba nodded and Hale knelt to her, taking her dark hand into his. "You poor woman, he has you by the throat this very moment hasn't he?"

Tituba nodded once again and Hale turned to his wife. "Sarah, come quickly." He hauled up the woman and began to drag her toward the house as Sarah fled Abby's side and followed her husband into the house and up the stairs.

"Now Tituba I am going to break his grip on you." Hale explained as they reached the room and Sarah grabbed for a book of Psalms. "I am going to pry open the hands of Lucifer!"

"You will be a good Christian woman, will you not? You still love God" Hale held Tituba's face and the woman nodded firmly.

"I love him with all my being."

"Children, I will need you all too pray with me." Sarah whispered to the girls who stood on the stairs, watching curiously. "Pray to God for his light to shine on us all, for we all do his work now."

The girls nodded and Sarah smiled upon them, feeling a rush doing the Lord's work.

A Dozen questions bombarded Tituba from every which way.

Who were they?

How many?

Were they men or women?

Could she see them?

Sarah could see the overwhelming fear about her until Tituba finally snapped and spoke her mind freely, turning on the blonde Reverend Parris fiercely.

"How many times he bade me _kill you_ Mr. Parris!" She barked and Parris stumbled back.

"Kill me?"

"Rise up Tituba and cut that man's throat that what he tell me but I say No Devil! I don't hate that man." The woman stood quickly. "And he say Tituba, you work for me and I make you free! I give you pretty dress to wear, and I put you high in the air and you go flying back to Barbados" she began to weep heavily. "And I say no Devil you lie!"

She swallowed and stared around the room, having transfixed every soul with her tale. "And then him say, Tituba look. I has _white people_ belong to meme. And I look…I look. And there was Sarah Goode!"

"I knew it!" Mrs. Putnam cried out, "Oh Bless you Tituba!"

"Aye! And Goody Osborne!"

"I knew it!" Mrs. Putnam wept and Sarah placed a hand on her shoulder as the woman trembled "They were midwives to me three times, and my babies shriveled in their hands!"

"I want to open myself!" Abby shrieked, all eyes suddenly on her as she looked around. "I want the Light of God, I want the sweet Love of Jesus." She snatched Sarah's hand and fell to her knees. "I did dance with the devil!"

Sarah gaped as she went on. "I wrote in his book! I saw him! I go back to Jesus, I kiss his hands." She bawled and Sarah stroked her head encouragingly.

"I saw Sarah Goode with the Devil!" she cried out, "I saw Goody Osborne with the Devil!"

Another girl stepped forward quickly. "I saw Brigit Bishop with the Devil!"

"I saw Good Howe with the Devil!" Betty, after her long sleep shot up in bed and began to cry out with the rest. "I saw Goody Barrow with the Devil!"

Soon the room was filled with the caterwauling of confessions and accusations from every girl.

Sarah was shocked to the core, it seemed every girl here had seen witches.

So many claims could not be ignored, it was clear to one and all that the Devil had a firm grasp in Salem.

But now they had made progress, they had names, and they had saved the girls from the clutched of Lucifer.

"Hallelujah!" Hale cried out, "The curse is broken, they are free!"

"Praise be to God!" Sarah gasped and covered her mouth as Goody Putnam embraced her in exuberant joy.

"Bless you, Oh bless you." She wept tears of joy, "Bless you both, you have saved our children!"

The Judge was called and Sarah Osborne arrested from the crime of Witchcraft.

By dusk there were four people in the jail, to be questioned the next day.

In the meantime the Hales were shown to the house in which they would live until the work was done. It was a modest residence with a single bedroom, a kitchen and a room off the kitchen in the back with a large table and chairs as well as living room furniture.

It was a small walk from the town, maybe a mile and a half, giving Hale a quick route to the court.

Once alone Sarah shook her head with a small nervous laugh. "You were right." She sighed, "Witchcraft in Salem."

"Yes." Hale sighed. "But for once, being right brings me no pleasure. Who knows how long those children have been afflicted by the powers of evil, or how many people have been touched by Satan here."

Sarah touched his shoulder and massages it gently, "Fear not my dear, The Devil's grip is not so strong. You saved those girls do you not? I believe no person is beyond redemption, all can be turned to God's light if shown the way once more."

John Smiled and hummed slightly covering her hand with him. "Discount not your own influence Sarah, it is not wholly my doing."

Sarah smiled softly and slipped her hand away from his. "Reverend Parris has kindly granted us a hare to eat tonight. I shall make supper, you rest."

She began to make for the kitchen before John looked back at her. "Sarah?"

"Yes?"

"I like not to press certain matters with you." He approached her as she turned curiously. "But I fear I must address something."

"What is that, John?" she watched him carefully as he shifted his eyes away to the window.

"I appreciate your help in these endeavors Sarah, but I fear that your reasoning is not all together pure." He confessed and Sarah pulled a tense smile.

"What is this?" she laughed forcefully. "Pray speak frankly with me John."

"Just…I do not wish for you to enter this battle with a desire for vengeance, lest it cloud your judgement."

Sarah fell silent and her tense smile fell into a small, hurt frown.

"It has been five years Sarah…"

"Is there a limit on my mourning?" She cut him off with a snap and swallowed her venom. "Is it a crime for a mother to mourn the loss of her child?"

"There was not proof that is was witchcraft, He was born sickly…"

"No." She swallowed. "He wasn't, he was beautiful. He was perfect." She wet her lips and took a deep breath. "I understand your concern John, but worry not. I will not allow the past to intrude on the present. "

She looked to him with dark, cloudy brown eyes that did not match the forced grin she pulled her lips into. "I promise."

John nodded but did not smile back as she sighed. "I will go prepare supper. Rest now, it will be a long day tomorrow."

She embraced him warmly and pressed her lips to the corner of his chastely. "Do not worry about me, my love. We have bigger devils to worry about now."


	4. Chapter 4

**_I'm so glad this story is getting views, I hope you're all enjoying it! And a little fun fact to go with this, after some in-depth research I have discovered that I actually share my birthday with Sarah Noyes Hale. How weird is that?!_**

 ** _Also I'm trying to keep this as historically accurate as possible while still keeping the time line logical to the ages so just bear with me please? Thanks!_**

It didn't take long for the trials to start full throttle, and Sarah was glad to play a semi active role in it all.

While John worked with the Judge and Mr. Cheever, the newly appointed court clerk, Sarah handled the girls and anyone else who happened to be disturbed by the new found evil.

She would keep a log of every person accused and a brief summary of the crimes, and offer comfort for the aggrieved children afflicted.

A few seemed uncomfortable talking about the attacks, and a few claimed that they could not remember certain details.

Sarah was glad to do this job, acting as confidant and comforter to the afflicted and the tormented.

It seemed Abigail Williams was the most clear-headed of the girls, as she could recall nearly every detail of her attacks.

One afternoon in the first week of the trials Goody Putnam arrived at the door of the home, little Ruth in hand. The red headed child looked ill at ease and antsy.

"Goody Hale?" she knocked in and Sarah looked up to find the two in the doorway.

"Goody Putnam…" She set aside her knitting and smiled welcomingly. "And little Ruth, how good to see you."

She stood and motioned them into the home and closed the door, despite it being an exceedingly warm day.

"Please, sit." She insisted, "May I offer you something to drink? It's dreadfully hot out today."

"No, thank you. I wonder if you would talk to my Ruth, I fear something is a-gnawing at her mind."

Sarah eyed the child and nodded with a comforting smile. "I would be happy to. Ruth?" she knelt down a bit to be on the child's level. "Do you have anything you would like to talk about?"

Ruth eyed her but kept her lips seal, and instead casting her eyes uncertainly up at her mother.

Sarah caught the meaning of the look and nodded. "Mrs. Putnam, I wonder if I might have a moment alone with Ruth. If you don't mind?"

Goody Putnam seemed a little miffed at the very idea of being left out of the conversation but she nodded and pushed Ruth forward before leaving the house.

"Would you like to sit down Ruth?" she asked and the little girl paused before accepting a seat, watching Sarah sit in the other chair and take up her knitting again. "Now, your mother thinks there is something bothering you. Is there anything you would like to tell me?"

The girl swallowed and looked down demurely. "No, ma'am."

"Alright." Sarah nodded content and Ruth looked up, surprised that she didn't press for more information. Her mother practically hounded her for any scrap of knowledge she had and that only made Ruth clam up more.

She hated it when her mother and Father thought she was hiding something, because even if she wasn't they made her feel as though she had done something wrong.

She looked at this woman and tried not to stare.

She was a pretty woman, not very young but not old like Goody Osborne or Goody Good either.

From what she could see she had fair reddish brown hair like Ruth herself, and a round face with full cheeks and pouting lips that were pulled to the side in a curious, contemplative look, as though she was thinking over something that didn't seem quite right.

"Goody Hale, may I ask you something?" she braved and Sarah looked at her passively.

"Of course" She nodded calmly and continued her knitting steadily.

"What will happen to the people in the Jail?" She asked and Sarah froze in her movement before swallowing.

"Well…" she sighed. "They will be tried and if they are found guilty they will sit in the jail for a time until they confess."

"But what if they don't confess?"

"Then it up to the courts to decide what is to happen to them." She put it vaguely, not wanting to have to tell a child that they could very well be hanged for witchcraft.

"Goody Hale, do you think if a person does something bad and then repents on it, God will still love them?"

This question seemed particularly weighty on the girl's heart and Sarah could hear it in her voice. Setting aside the work Sarah smiled and motioned for the girl to stand.

"Come hither child."

Ruth obeyed and stood before Sarah who smiled a little, stroking her soft, pale cheeks with a warm hand.

"Ruth, it is not for us to decide what The Lord thinks. But I believe that no matter what, no person is beyond redemption in the eyes of God. And if a person really _truly_ repents on their bad deeds, then God will still be in their heart." She took the girl's hands and held them gently. "Do you know that, Ruth?"

Ruth nodded, a light of understanding in her eyes. "I think so. Thank you Goody Hale."

"You're welcome. Shall we bring your mother in now?"

Ruth nodded again and Sarah stood and opened the front door where Goody Ann waited impatiently.

"I think Ruth's mind is at ease now Goody Putnam, there is no need to worry" She beckoned Ruth who took her mother's hand.

"Oh thank you." Goody Putnam breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. "Ruth, I want you to head back to the house now, and don't dawdle. Straight home."

The girl obeyed quickly and Goody Putnam took Sarah's hands, "What did she say to you? Has she been attacked again?"

"Ruth is fine, Mrs. Putnam, just fine." Sarah soothed her. "She is a true Christian child, even when they had wrong her she worries for the souls of those in the Jail. She fears God will not love them anymore."

"What did you tell her?" Goody Putnam inquired, worried what lessons her daughter may have learned outside her knowledge.

"I told her that if a person truly repents on their evil deeds then they are not beyond redemption, no one is."

Mrs. Putnam seemed satisfied with this and thanked her once more before leaving, nearly bumping into Abigail Williams on the way out as the girl approached the house.

"Good Marrow Goody Hale." Abigail smiled and Sarah nodded at her.

"Abigail, what brings you here?"

"I thought I would bring you something to say thank you." Abigail smiled and offered her a small sweet wrap in a cloth pouch.

It was a small cake just barely an inch long by an inch wide and was blackish blue in color with a white powder on top.

"My mother taught me to make them…before she died I mean." Abigail added the last part sadly and Sarah's eyes softened.

"Abigail, if there is ever anything you wish to speak on. You are welcome here, do you understand?" Sarah asked and gently pushed the girl's chin up with her palm.

She was a lovely girl, with large dark eyes and a pretty face.

Sarah was almost reminded of her own sister, whom she hadn't seen for years.

"I ought to get back, I should be with Betty now." Abigail smiled sheepishly and nodded to the cake. "I hope you enjoy it."

"I'm sure I will, Good day to you Abigail." Sarah waved her off as she turned back for the village, waiting until she was out of sight before re-entering the house.

How could someone bare to hurt these children? She though with a shake of her head.

She tried to understand what could make a person turn from God so far that they were face to face with Satan, but she could not for the life of her.

She remembered the first witch she ever saw, a woman in her home town of Charlestown by the name of Margaret Jones. She had been a midwife who was accused of witchcraft when Sarah was ten years old, and she witnessed the execution with her mother and father.

She had not known it at the time but John had been there as well, as he was born and raised in Charleston as well.

In her young mind, Sarah didn't understand how a person could do good deeds and yet be bound to the Devil, but she would come to accept it soon enough.

She and John met and married not too long after John's first wife, Rebecca, died of illness and Sarah always knew he had loved her dearly.

It is always a difficult thing, to enter a marriage with someone who has already traveled down that path.

Sarah, at first, was afraid that she would not be able to live up to Rebecca's memory, that she would forever be compared to her husband's dead wife in his mind.

But it was soon clear that John wanted no such thing; all he wanted was a companion, someone to share his home with.

Her devotion to God drew him to her, and the passion he gave when he was preaching to the congregation enraptured her senses.

And his mind fascinated her, the keenest of wit and cleverness.

Before she met John, Sarah's reading skills were nearly non-existent due to her weak eye sight that made small print in books blurry and unfocused. She would strain her eyes until her head was pounding just to read a few pages.

One evening John asked her what was ill as he witnessed her twisting her face into frustration as she sat with the bible in her lap.

After blushing with embarrassment she admitted to him that she could not understand the passages because she could not see them, she had always depended on a member of her family or the minister to read from the bible so she could hear it.

With amused understanding He took the book from her and read to her the Book of Exodus in one night.

As she stirred a pot of stew for that evening's supper she eyed the small sweet on the table.

Maybe just a taste, she thought and reached for the cake.

She took a bite that took up half the cake and savored the sweet taste of the berries, though it was unfamiliar to her.

She finished off the tiny cake and went back to stirring the stew until she slowly felt a strangeness over take her.

She felt her body warming up considerably and her mouth was terribly dry.

Making for the water pitcher on the table she stumbled and grasped the handle of the pitcher and struggled to pour the water into the tin cup.

Her arms were weak and as she tried to lift it she stumbled once more over her own feet and the pitcher clattered to the floor, spilling the water on the wood.

She needed air.

Pale and dizzy she made for the door and heard the sounds of horse hooves and the rattle of a carriage.

The room was hellishly hot now, but she felt not a drop of sweat on her skin as it burned and crawled.

She looked around her as the room seemed to spin like a top, the sound of the hooves grew deafeningly loud, and as did every noise she heard until they all pounded in her head like a demonic symphony.

"Sarah, I'm home…"

John entered the house merrily just in time to watch his wife, flushed and writhing, tumble to the floor…


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thanks to my very first reviewer, I'm so glad you like the story!**_

"Sarah!"

Hale darted for her as she collapsed to the wood floor, whining and writhing violently.

"Sarah! Sarah, my dear what is ill?"

She could not reply as he grasped her shoulders firmly yet she still thrashed like a fish out of water, fending off some unseen attacker.

Careful not to be on the receiving end of her frantic blows he lifted her from the floor and swiftly carried her into the bed room.

Laying her on the bed he tried to decipher her pained moans.

"Sarah, it's me! It's John!" He cupped her face in his hands and found her skin burning to the touch, though dry as a bone.

"I will ride for help, my dear." he whispered as the struggle slowed and she simply writhed on the bed.

He left her there and locked the door to the bedroom before quickly unhitching one of the horses and mounting it, not bothering with a saddle or reigns; there was no time.

The horse with only one rider and no carriage was twice as swift as usual and he made it into town in record time, stumbling to the doctor's front door and banging on it forcefully.

Mrs. Griggs answered and was taken aback by the Reverend's flushed and disheveled appearance. "Please I must see the doctor, it is an emergency... My wife, she..."

The doctor arrived at the door behind his wife and pushed past her. "Reverend Hale, is there a problem?"

"Please sir, it's my wife! She has fallen ill, there is no time to be lost!"

"Certainly mister. Mary, my medical bag." he urged and took a large bag from her.

Together the men rode as fast as they could to the home to be greeted by the sound of terrified wails of anguish echoing from the house.

"Please sir." Hale escorted the doctor in and back to the bed room where they found Sarah, curled and twisted, huddled in the corner of the room with her fingers twisted and knotted in her hair which had come undone from her bonnet.

"My God" the doctor stood stunned a moment as Hale rushed forward toward his screaming wife.

"Sarah! Sarah, it's me. It's John." he took her hands which had clawed long red lines down her arms and her neck.

She stared at him and John was struck by how wide her pupils were, two deep black pits filled with fear.

"John?" she whimpered, cheeks red moist with hot tears. She looked over his shoulder into the opposing corner and leaned into his neck.

"do you see it?" she whispered.

He looked over his shoulder and found nothing there but floor and wall.

"Sarah... My dear there is nothing there."

She began to tremble violently, practically vibrating in his embrace.

Hale whispered comforts into her ear as he lifted her from the floor and to the bed. "the doctor is here my love. He will help you."

He sat her on the bed and she stared around the room in confusion as the doctor stepped forward with his bag and bent to look her in the face.

She was burning to the touch but had no sweat on her brow. Her eyes were large and frantic, darting back and forth around the room.

Her heart was pounding erratically, enough that one could nearly see the flicker of her pulse under the thin flesh of her throat.

"Madame, have you ingested anything usual today?"

She shook her head, not really sure what he was saying.

All words were muffled and distorted in her mind and made no earthly sense.

"I see." the doctor stood, a troubled look about him and he looked to the Reverend who gripped his wife's hand firmly.

"Mr. Hale, I wonder if I might speak privately with you."

The Reverend looked to Sarah, reluctant to leave her alone for even a second but the doctor touched his arm.

"It won't be but a moment."

Hale nodded and left his wife in the room as they spoke just on the other side of the door.

"Mister Hale, in light of recent events I wonder if, perhaps..."

"You think she is under attack."

"I think the evil in Salem does not want you here..." the doctor whispered. "and I suggest that you invite the Reverend Parris and you both watch over her carefully."

"and the physical symptoms?"

"I shall tend to the wounds on her arms and throat, and I suggest keeping her cool some how." The doctor placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I'm afraid for now, this is an affliction beyond my art."

"Thank you Doctor Griggs" Hale breathed and looked to the door. "if you could, please inform Mr. Parris, I fear I should not leave Sarah alone."

"of course Mister." the doctor agreed and left the house, riding back into town and informing Parris of the events.

"Uncle, What is ill?" Abigail asked at the blonde Reverend quickly took up his coat and hat and bible.

"Goody Hale has come under attack, The Reverend Hale wishes for me to attend with him."

Abigail's face struggled to stifle a small smile and covered it with a worried frown. "You don't think she could be in danger do you?"

"Watch after Betty, I may be back late." He dismissed her and she watched him leave from the door way and her eyes wondered slightly to the edge of the wood where she knew a healthy harvest of Nightshade berries grew.

Parris ended up being followed by Mr and Mrs Putnam who tailed him out of morbid curiosity. They arrived as night began to fall.

Hale ushered them in, not really caring or noticing the Putnams and instead paced the floor of the room, praying aloud.

"Goody Ann, if you please." Hale motioned for her to take his place on the bed and she nodded, taking the cool, damp cloth from him and pressing it to Sarah's flesh.

Sarah twisted and jerked on the bed, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

Her hair looked fiery auburn in the candle light and the room was cooled by the spring air lofting through the open windows.

Hale and Parris prayed persistently by the bed side as Sarah's breath caught in her throat, letting out a strangled scream as her eyes stayed glued on the ceiling.

"What is it?" Goody Ann pressed her fervently as Sarah suddenly sat up.

"It's him!" She seemed suddenly joyous, the fear had fled from her eyes and her face and was replaced with rapturous love. "It's him, can't you hear him?"

The prayers stopped and they watched as she darted for the open window.

"Goody Hale!" Parris stepped forward, afraid that she might try to "fly" just as Betty had.

"It's Samuel! Can't you hear him?! John?!" she turned to her husband who's face suddenly fell into one of great distress. His wife rushed forward and took his hand, dragging him for the door.

"It's him! I know it is! He's crying outside, I must go to him." She rushed for the door but Hale held fast, planting his feet as his wife was pulled back from the door.

"Sarah." Hale said in a voice just barely above a hoarse whisper. "Sarah."

"It's him John, 'tis our boy! Can't you hear him? He needs his mother." Her insistence slowly turned to desperation as John slowly pulled her away from the door.

"Sarah, please." He led her back to the bed and she look at him with confusion, not understanding how he could not hear it.

It was so clear.

"Sarah, it is not Samuel." He spoke softly and calmly, though it was clear he was forcing himself to swallow a great deal of grief. "It's not, it is an illusion my dear."

"B-but, I hear him." She insisted, "Can't you hear him? He just outside, he's just..."

She tailed off at the sight of her husband's eyes, hard and sad eyes that held the terrible truth she desperately did not want to hear.

She said no more, if the imaginary crying went on then she suffered in silence.

She willingly laid back in the bed, clinging tightly to Hale who sat with her willingly.

Soon it seemed she fell off to sleep and Goody Ann rested the wet cloth across her brow before looking to Mister Hale; her eyes burning with the question everyone wanted to ask.

"Mister Hale..."

"I know what you are thinking." Hale cut off Parris suddenly, hands tucked under his arms and eyes cast to the side to avoid looking at any of them. "You may ask if you wish."

Suddenly no one wanted to.

But it gnawed away at all of them.

"Samuel?" Parris finally asked plainly and Hale nodded.

"Our son, Our...late...son." He swallowed. "He died just three days after he was born."

He looked to the woman in the bed with sad eyes. "He was sickly, and he would not nurse. Sarah...she felt it was her fault, that she did something wrong. Soon she became convinced that it was witchery which took our son." he sat on the edge of the bed and watched her chest rise and fall with each breath.

"I thank you all for your help, but I believe it best if I take it from here."

Parris nodded and he and the Putnams showed themselves out as Hale gazed at his wife.

Part of him felt as though he had failed her. He said all would be well, he promised her.

Now look, the wife of a minister attacked by the forces of evil.

Sweet Sarah, always so eager to please him.

Pious, virtuous, kind.

And yet he failed her, both as a husband and a spiritual protector.

He was terribly tired but too riled to sleep, to skittish.

Instead he took up the oldest book in his collection.

The Holy Bible.

And he pulled back the covers of the bed and pulled them over her gently. He wiped the excess moisture from her face and neck and paused a moment to stroke her cheek softly, her once tense and drawn featured relaxed into sleep.

Removing his coat and his boots he crawled onto the bed next to her, watching her roll into his weight and rest against his leg as he sat up against the headboard.

She whined a bit and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his side as he reached down and stroked her hair soothingly.

He waited until she was comfortable before opening the Bible slowly and resting his eyes on the very first sentence.

"In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth..."


	6. Chapter 6

Sarah was bed ridden for five days, plagued by hallucinations and convulsions that twisted her muscles and made her body ache.

And throughout those five days the body count in the jail grew exponentially.

Unable to keep down food, Sarah's full features grew shallow quickly and her eyes were dull and cloudy.

News spread throughout Salem about the vicious attacks on the minister's wife and those who wished to curry favor with Hale or prove themselves good Christian souls stopped by almost constantly to pray over her.

Only three people who hovered over her in her trance came with genuine care in their hearts.

Martha Corey, a stout woman who watched over Sarah while John was at court.

Rebecca Nurse, who sat by the woman's bedside dabbing at her brow with a cool cloth and whispering prayers.

And Elizabeth Proctor, who brought food to the Hales and offered her prayers to God for them.

These were the faces Sarah remembered in those moments when she was able to form a sensible thought.

One of those who also came was Abigail Williams on the fourth day.

Abigail watched the woman lay in the bed, her face as pale as the bed sheets around her with two bright pink blotches on her cheeks. Her full lips were rosy with fever, and her breathing shallow.

For a moment the girl was reminded of a fairytale about a woman who was put in a deep sleep by a witch she had heard as a young child, when her parents were still alive and could tell her such stories.

Watching to be sure that Martha Corey was not coming to check in, Abigail drew a handful of small black berries from her pocket and placed them just between the mattress and the floor at the end of the bed where they would not be squished.

After she completed her task she left quickly.

That afternoon, when the judges arrived from Boston, Abigail Williams approached Judge Hawthorn with a daring statement.

"Judge Hawthorn sir." She curtsies and approached him the day before official court would commence and the man turned to face the girl.

"Yes Child?"

"If you will permit me sir, I have something to confess."

The judge, struck by this statement nodded. "Pray child, speak frankly."

Abigail sighed and made a show of summoning her courage. "If I may sir, I do believe I know who has bewitched Reverend Hale's wife sir."

Reverend Hale, who had been within ear shot, instantly was at the Judge's side as the older man's eyes widened.

"I see." The judge nodded, "and, pray tell, whom do you think to be the cause of Goody Hale's affliction?"

Abigail swallowed hard.

"Sarah Bishop, sir. I have heard her speak ill of Goody Hale, and this past night as I lay in bed I had a vision of Goody Bishop's spirit over Goody Hale's bed and she placed six black berries under the mattress at the foot of the bed."

This had both men's attention, which Abigail was glad to entertain.

"Tell me child, what signifies six berries?" The judge asked curiously and Abigail closed her eyes.

"I believe they were Nightshade Berries sir, The Devil's plant. And Goody Bishop has a healthy nightshade bush in her back garden"

The men nodded and waved her off before consulting with the rest of the officials.

Mr. Hale checked his books and indeed found that witches were known to use the berries of the Nightshade plant to bewitch others and send them terrifying visions.

Together Hale and the judges arrived at Hale's house and entered the room where Martha Corey was trying to coax some thin broth into Sarah's stomach.

Sarah was pale as death and appeared to be sleeping.

"Mr Hale?" Martha asked and he silenced her with a serious wave as he knelt down and carefully lifted the corner of the cot from the ground and covered his mouth.

There was all the evidence they needed

Within two hours, Goody Bishop was in the jail

On the fifth day of her illness, just after Sarah Bishop had been committed to the jail, Sarah awoke in the evening around supper feeling remarkably better.

She could rise and stand without dizziness and her thoughts were as clear as glass. And although she was weak from her time in bed, she felt nearly good as new.

Martha Corey called for the Doctor and for Mr. Hale who had been having dinner with the officials of the court, but excused himself quickly when Dr. Griggs rushed in to inform him of the news.

The Reverend rode as fast as he could and arrived to find his Wife sitting on the bed looking ill, pale, and disheveled, but alive and well no the less.

Sarah rolled her eyes and watched as the doctor checked her pulse and her eyes thoroughly and shrugged.

"I can find nothing wrong with her Mr. Hale. It is as if the illness never occurred"

Hale could not be more relieved and once he thanked both Martha and Griggs for their service and showed them out of the house he embraced his wife tightly, fingers woven into her loose hair and the other arm tightly around her waist.

"My darling, my dear Sarah. I am so sorry." He whispered and she laughed lightly.

"Sorry? John dear, you're talking nonsense." She pulled away and looked to him with clear blue eyes no long filled with fear and fever. "What have you to be sorry for?"

"I swore to protect you, as a husband and as a minister. And I have failed you."

"Failed me?" She smiled and shook her head. "No, no, no. You could not have stopped this from occurring. No one could have. It is our job to suffer in this life for the happiness that awaits us."

She cupped his face and smiled and for a moment he thought her an angel, sent to him to protect his faith from the evils of the world.

"We have determined who it was who sent the attack on you my dear." He informed her. "Can you tell me anything about what you might know? Anything you remember before the attack occurred, or maybe in the visions?"

She shook her head seriously. "The last I recall was Goody Putnam and Ruth leaving the house, and then nothing."

"Anything in your visions then, during the attack? I know it might hurt to remember, but please try." He begged her, "anything?"

"Like what?" She asked curiously.

"Anyone in the room with you? Standing over you, maybe they did something odd?"

Sarah thought back to her feverish haze and nodded. "Once, I'm not sure when, I remember a woman standing over me. I could not see her face but I remember she knelt by the bed and put something under the mattress."

John nodded as she began to change from her shift a clean sleeping gown and put out a frock on the chair.

"What are you doing?" He asked and she looked over her shoulder at him.

"I'm putting out my clothes for the morning. Martha Corey told me that trials are to start tomorrow, and all the judges from Boston have arrived."

Hale eyed her incredulously. "You don't seriously think I'm going to let you go."

"Why ever not?" she turned to him, eyes hard and ready for a debate.

"You're staying here to rest and recover." Hale insisted and Sarah rolled her eyes.

"John, I feel perfectly fine."

"That's not the point." He approached her and gripped her shoulder, turning her to face him. "Now look, I've never ruled over you, have I?"

Sarah sighed and eyes him but conceded. "No"

"I've never been mean, harsh, tried to dominate you…?"

"No, you've been a model husband. And I am grateful for that John. I thank the Lord every night for it."

"I've only ever done what is best for you yes?"

He looked down on her firmly and she sighed. "Of course."

"Then I must insist that you _stay here_ tomorrow."

Sarah sighed and set down the dress before looking up at him. "John, God sent us here for a reason. And he allowed me to fall victim for a reason as well." She insisted.

"He sent us here to cleanse this town, and at first I did not believe it to be true. Even when the accused were put in the jail, I still had my doubts. But now I know, because I've _seen_ it, I have _felt_ the devil's power over me and I understand what I am to do. I must help them John!" she grew more passionate as she went on.

"Help whom?"

"The girls" She whispered, "God has allowed me to feel as they have felt, so that I might be able to help them as much as I can."

John shook his head, "Sarah… I am afraid…"

"As am I." she cut him off "But would you have me ignore God's task simply because of that, John?" she challenged him, "Would you let those Children testify in court without someone by their side who has seen what they have seen? Simply because I am afraid?"

John remained silent, wringing his hands tightly before sighing and nodding in defeat. "Very well, if you believe God has tasked you with this mission, who am I to keep you from it?"

Sarah smiled and embraced him tightly, nuzzling his cheek and neck affectionately. "I love you, my dear." She whispered softly and he tightened his grip.

"And I love you Sarah, I was afraid I would lose you." He confessed, "I do not think I could bear it if I did."

"You shan't my love." She assured him, fingers weaving into his fine hair, "I shall not let the powers of darkness over take us; I will not be deterred."

She spoke with such firmness and courage he believed she meant it, every word.

The look in her blues eyes told him that she would hunt down every devil herself if need be.

"How did you become so bull headed?" he whispered and she hummed a giggle into the crook of his neck. "A stiff neck is considered a vice, unless it be turned toward the light of God." She informed him smartly.

"Come." He pulled her towards the bed. "You must rest, for we will have a long day ahead."

Sarah grumbled under her breath, "But I've been resting for five days."

"And now you must rest some more, now come along." He laughed as she put on a show of childishly leaning on him limply.

She loved to make simple things amusingly difficult for him at times.

It made her laugh to see him try to catch a book she was holding behind her back from him or watch him become mildly frustrated and yet flustered when he was trying to write a sermon or read and she would play with his hands and scatter tiny kisses on his fingers and face.

"Sarah…" He began to warn her but she smiled cheekily at him.

"Yes John?"

"Can't you be serious for once?" He asked and she shook her head.

"Not when life offers so little opportunities to be foolish." She countered and He smiled before sweeping her up into his arms making her squeal in surprise.

He carried her to the bed and set her down gently, trailing kisses down her brow and cheeks softly.

Their ways did not allow for displays of affection between men and women, but the man and wife made up for it when they were alone as they showered each other with love long pent up during the day.

With whispers and sighs and light caresses they did not come together as a man and wife that night, but without words they spoke their hearts.

His relief and her gratitude.

His concern and her resoluteness.

Their devotion to each other and their Love.


	7. Chapter 7

**So now that this story is getting a lot more reviews I'm super excited and I hope you all enjoy the story.**

The next morning, the duo left for the village in the early morn, just before day break.

John had made a few last minute pleas with his wife to remain behind at the house for at least a few days more to ensure her safety but Sarah would have none of it, dour and resolute as stone.

"You don't look well"

"I feel just fine."

"Come here" John pulled her forward and pressed a solid hand to her forehead and neck. "You have a fever" He stated firmly and Sarah rolled her eyes before pulling away.

" _You_ insisted we spend all night under the covers with the windows shut and a fire going just so I _wouldn't_ get a fever, of course I'm a little warm"

"You look pale."

"I'm always pale."

"Sarah!"

"John!" she whipped around with the kettle in her hand and an exasperated look on her face. "I. Am. Fine, and I am going to Salem today even if I have to walk there."

In truth she did not feel all that well, her body was still weak and she had been having terrible cramps and spasms all night but she said not a word of complaint.

John grumbled through breakfast and in the carriage and into town bitterly.

"Ah, Mr. Hale!" A tall man with a firm looking face and a voice that commanded the attention of all approached them as they stopped by the courthouse. "Good marrow to you mister."

"Good Marrow Judge Danforth." Hale shook the man's hand before helping Sarah out of the cart.

"And who is this fine lady, sir?" Danforth asked, motioning to Sarah who curtsied deeply out of respect for the deputy governor.

"This is my good wife, Sarah. She has been providing counsel and comfort to the afflicted girls. We thought it wise she be here today for that reason, sir."

"Ah, the famous Goody Hale." Danforth noted with favor, "I have heard of your good works missus, but have you not been afflicted yourself these past five days?"

"I feel perfectly fine now sir, thank you. And I shall not let the attack influence my duty to these children" She smiled. "Though I have no doubt my good husband has worried half the village sick over me."

"With good reason, I marvel that you come so bravely to court today. Having gone through what you have." Danforth's voice was laced with praise and eyed Mr. Hale. "It is a fine soul that faces the devil and still does not waver."

"I only hope to bring light back to Salem sir, with the help of our Lord." She replied demurely. "If I do not sound too presumptuous my lord."

The Judge was pleased with her candor and looked to Mr. Hale, who looked more nervous than a mouse, with an approving eye. "A fine wife you have Mister. Very fine indeed."

He turned and left them to enter the court house and Hale let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding the entire exchange.

His wife's nerve had surprised him, to speak so frankly with the deputy governor of Massachusetts.

"What is ill, John?" she asked, gazing with concern at his pale features and he straightened up.

"Nothing, let's just…get inside." He led her in with an arm hooked around hers.

The Girls sat on long benches away from the rest of the patrons and Sarah broke off from her husband to approach them.

"Goody Hale!" Mary Warren looked to her with a look of absolute relief on her face. "You have come!"

"I would not be absent for the world Mary." Sarah assured the girl.

Abigail Williams gazed at the woman with passiveness, bit of worry, and genuine relief to see her well. She had begun to suspect that she had used too many berries and the minister's wife would not recover, which she simply could not allow.

Mrs. Hale was so kind, so understanding. She would believe everything she said and did.

In a way Abigail was reminded of her own dear mother, or at least what she imagined her mother to have been like from what she could remember.

Warm, kind, and determined. Just as Abigail was determined.

Perhaps that is why Abigail felt a connection.

Maybe, the girl thought with a bit of hopeful longing, maybe Mrs. Hale felt a connection to.

"I am glad to see you are well Goody Hale." Abigail said softly and Sarah smiled.

"Thank you child, I will be better still knowing the good we do here." She looked over them all kindly, taking in their youthful faces.

Soon the court began to fill up and Sarah sat on the women's side of the pews, in the front row on the nearest corner to the girls.

The church was packed to the rafters with onlookers, all muttering and whispering to each other.

The first on trial was Sarah Good, an old, wizen woman in dirty clothes from sitting in a jail cell.

To the relief of all she was quick to confess, stating when and where she saw the devil and when she sold her soul to him. She also named another in the jail, Sarah Osborne, who was with the Devil when she saw him first.

With Goody Good as a witness, Sarah Osborne was dragged in to the court house.

Sarah had only seen Goody Osborne once, begging in the streets for change, and she had felt pity for the dirty old woman dressed in rags.

But now was not the time for pity or a charitable heart.

As the old woman sat on the wooden bench before the judges, Judge Hawthorn took the lead.

"Now, Sarah Osborne, here is Sarah Good who has confessed to witchcraft. And therefore will not hang. I bid you, follow her example. She testifies that when the Devil came to her you were in his company."

Goody Good stood up at this; thin, pale arms outstretched as if telling a tale.

"Oh yes sir, big as life, him and her." She described it. "And Osborne writing her name in his book, with her _own red blood_!"

The court went up in jeers and hisses at this and Osborne stumbled forward to the judges table, protesting the idea.

"Your honors, I never see the devil!" she hissed before grinning. "But! I can dance as fast backwards as he can!" She laughed and began to jig across the floor to the rhythm of the jeers from the crowd.

Sarah Hale looked away from the sinful display.

"Sit down I tell you, sit! Sit her down!" Hawthorn ordered as Osborne jerked away from her detainers and stumbled towards the girls.

"You stop your funnin'!" She demanded. "You's give up your stories! You bring me to _harm."_ She began to mutter and hiss under her breath and suddenly Abigail doubled over and howled in pain.

"OoOoh! Stop hurting me Goody Osborne!" She cried out and the other girls began to clutch at their sides and whine and whimper as well as Sarah darted forwards and began to comfort the girls, backed by a few eager women who tended to others as well.

"Help me Judge Danforth!" Abigail whined as she clutched Sarah's shoulder, nails digging into her frock.

The woman was hauled to the table away from the girls, who still moaned and rocked in pain.

"What are you doing to these girls?" Danforth demanded firmly, backed by Hawthorn immediately. "What do you mumble to make them so sick?"

"Why, I only sayin' my commandments, I hope that I my recite my commandments." The woman protested and Judge Seawell, a man with a well-trimmed beard and neat clothes nodded.

"Pray, let her recite her commandments."

"Your grace." Osborne sighed. "I may only say my commandments after dark."

"There are _ten_ commandments." Danforth informed her tartly, "do you know any?"

The woman faltered and began to babble as the girls when on with their cries of pain, and Sarah and the other women tried to hush them.

"You have lied to the court." Danforth declared, "I say you have lied to the court. Have you not?"

Osborne snarled and hissed. "I'm innocent a witch! _The Devil_ knows that!"

This sent the court howling as the woman was dragged out of the church, the second she was gone the girls stopped moaning and the pain seemingly vanished instantly.

The day went on and soon it was Sarah Bishop who was hauled into the court.

"That's the woman who bewitched you Goody Hale." Abigail whispered in her ear as the woman knelt down. "Are you not frightened?"

"No Child." Sarah lied, putting on a mask of bravado. "I do not fear this."

"I fear she will try to hurt you Goody Hale." She insisted.

"That is kind of you child, but worry not." Sarah pressed and returned to her seat.

"Sarah Bishop, you have been accused to dealings with the Devil, and the supernatural attack of Sarah Hale. What say you to these crimes?"

"I am innocent a witch your grace, and I would never do harm to a person." The older woman with a severe face and an upturned nose insisted.

"We have testimonies that state that one night before she fell ill, your spirit was seen over Mrs. Hale's bed, and that you placed six nightshade berries under her bed to bewitch her mind."

"I would never sirs!" She protested and looked to Sarah Hale desperately. "What reason would I have to harm a minister's wife?"

"Were you not heard, the day Reverend Hale and his wife arrived in Salem, to be speaking ill of Mrs. Hale?"

"I never meant…"

"Did you not call her…?" Hawthorn looked on a paper before him. "A doe-eyed fool, as well as a gullible lump of naiveté?"

"Only because she so easily fell for these girls' tricks!" Sarah Bishop hissed and pointed to the girls.

Sarah Hale frowned, indignant but said nothing.

"What tricks are these Goody Bishop?"

Before the woman could speak Ruth Putnam shot from seat with a look of horror on her face, followed by Abigail.

They pointed at Mrs. Hale and went pale as sheets.

"What is wrong child?" Hawthorn asked the girls and Abigail let out a shuttering moan.

"A Dark Man, he looms of Goody Hale's shoulder!" She insisted and Sarah whipped around, seeing nothing but feeling a prickle of pins and needles crawl their way up her body and spine. "He is reaching for her!"

The other girls looked and they too stood and backed away in terror. Some wailed for Sarah to move away, and others whimpered in fear as Mrs. Hale continued to look around.

Those around her began to shift away and Reverend Hale, who had been standing to the side on the Men's side, turned to look at his wife who grew pale and trembled.

Goosebumps formed on her arms and Mrs. Putnam, who sat beside her grasped her hand.

"Why Goody Hale, you're as cold as Death!" she gasped as Sarah began to shiver, growing more and more convinced of the presence over her shoulder until she was afraid to turn.

"Goody Hale, can you contest to a figure standing behind you?" Judge Danforth asked calmly and the woman swallowed.

"I can see none sir, but I feel as though there is a darkness around me." She replied in a hushed tone.

"Goody Bishop, what is this black man you have conjured to loom over Goody Hale?" Danforth interrogated and Goody Bishop gaped.

"Can you not see she is being fooled again? There is no one there!" she protested and Sarah gasped at a sudden pressure on her shoulder, unaware that Goody Putnam had touched her gently.

"What is it?" The woman asked as Sarah went dead pale.

"Something has touched me." she whispered and Goody Putnam touched her face.

"My Dear you are as white as a ghost." She insisted. "And you tremble like a leaf in the wind."

Sarah looked at her own hands and found them shaking terribly.

"Why do you torment this woman so?" The judge demanded and Goody Bishop growled.

"I have done nothing to her! It is not me! I am innocent a witch!"

Mrs. Hale's trembling turned to outright shaking, until her right arm jerked out of her control and a sudden, sharp pain stabbed through her upper arm, making her cry out suddenly, more out of shock than pain.

"It is hurting her!" Abigail cried out, "It has her arm! It digs its nails in her arm"

"Ow!" The minister's wife clutched at her arm in distress, the pain radiated from her arm into her shoulder and joints and to move was to send more pain through her body.

The noise in the courtroom grew louder and louder as curious spectators pushed and jostled each other to get a look at her.

The air around her seemed to grow thinner and the noise began to pound in her head until it consumed her and she closed her eyes tightly.

The heat radiating off of the bodies around her made her unbearably hot, and the painful tingle in her body grew stronger until it seemed to fill the world

Heat, noise, dull pain, all growing more and more intense until finally it became too much to handle.

"She's fainted!" A cry when up and John, who had been trying to push his way through the throng felt his heart drop.

"Move away! Move away! Give her some air!" He shouted and was aided by Mr. Parris and Judge Danforth who banged his gavel on the table loudly.

"Order, Order in this court room. Move away, Move I say!" He bellowed as the crowd dispersed and the two Ministers tended to the woman crumpled on the floor, having collapsed from dehydration, muscle weakness, and pure sensory overload.

"Someone open a window, give her some air!" Parris ordered as he and Hale reclined Goody Hale's body on the pew.

"Goody Hale, Goody Hale, can you hear us?" Parris shook her shoulders and she whined before her eyes fluttered open, dull and confused.

"She wakes!"

"John." She whispered hoarsely. "Is it gone?"

"Is what gone?" The Reverend asked and Sarah's eyes wandered around.

"The Dark Man." She groaned and the judges wrote this down as the crowd went wild.

"Order, Order!" Danforth bellowed and glared at Sarah Bishop, who was completely at a loss.

"This court is in recess for one hour!" He called.

Abigail Williams was amazed, she could not have planned it better herself.

She had expected Mrs. Hale to believe her assertions of a dark man, not for the entire court to hound the woman until she fainted.

But Goody Bishop, unable to make her case, was hauled to the jail protesting anyway.

"I should not have let you come." Reverend Hale muttered as he helped his wife to sit up and the rest of the court filed out of the room and the girls were gathered away from the rest of the village.

"Here we go." Sarah muttered and she held her pounding head.

"Well it's true."

"You know this 'I told you so thing' is getting very dull" She pointed out and Ruth Putnam approached the two with a tin cup in her hands.

"Water for you Goody Putnam." She chirped and Sarah smiled, taking the cup gratefully.

"Thank you child." She nodded and swallowed the water down; her body accepting the flood thankfully.

They waited for the girl to leave before they continued bickering.

"You should go home,"

"Halfway through the first day? I think not."

"You can come back tomorrow, you'll be well then."

"I was well just a few moments ago."

"Not well enough, you scared me half to death Sarah. Please…" He sighed and checked around them to make sure the courtroom was empty before slipping his arm around her in a rare display of semi-public affection.

"I fear that your need to face this evil makes you prideful. You are too sure, too bold…I wish not for you to take more than you can handle."

Sarah's heart softened at his declaration of concern and she sighed before conceding with a nod.

"Very well, if that is what you wish."

John pressed his lips to her temple firmly. "Go home, rest, and pray…I will be home tonight and I will tell you everything. You shan't be kept out of the loop."

"When you explain it to Danforth, can you try to make me wound less weak?" She asked, hoping to save face before the Judge and Hale smiled a little.

"I think he will understand my dear. Now go, take one of the horses with you."

Sarah nodded and looked around to ensure they were alone before kissing him swiftly on the lips.

"Sarah!" Hale hissed scolding, scandalized at her boldness in a house of God.

She fled before he could chastise her more, blushing furiously as she unhitched one of the horses and rode it home in the dull spring afternoon.


	8. Chapter 8

**Lots of Love to Quidditch Lover for their review!**

That night as soon as John set foot through the door his wife was on him with a million and a half questions.

Who

What

When

Why

How

Everything under the moon pertaining to the court was the only thing on her mind but he refused to answer any questions until she was calm enough to sit down and listen to the answers.

Every scrap of information was copied down in the journal she kept until her hand was sore from griping the pen and her wrist aching from writing.

"There have been a few confessions but for those who have not yet, I fear they may not have much time before…" John sighed and Sarah eyed him.

They both knew the punishment for witchery without a confession.

Sarah set her pen aside and walked to him, cupping his face in her hands but gazed up at him with hard eyes.

"Don't" she spoke firmly, "You must not think on that John, not now."

She looked over her shoulder. "Supper is nearly done, but it might still be a bit. We're running low on firewood."

John looked at the dwindling stack of dry wood and nodded. "I bought some lumber from Proctor two days ago, I'll go chop some."

He brushed past her and Sarah smiled a little.

She would never dare admit it, for it was a sin to think such thoughts, but there were few things in this world she enjoyed more than watching her husband chop wood.

It was wicked, she knew it, but God forgive her if thinking such a thing about her husband was a sin.

John watched his wife enjoy the cool spring dusk around them as he raised the axe and brought it down in a clean swing over and over, an air of pure and utter tranquility about her.

He wished he could be as sure as she was but some of the things he heard in court, those that she had been absent for, disturbed him.

Not because of their nature.

But because he was not sure they were entirely truthful, especially from the Putnams.

Mrs. Putnam seemed even more desperate to blame witches for the death of her children than Sarah had been, and the Reverend had heard tell that Mr. Putnam was in constant dispute with her neighbors of the boundaries of his land.

But he would not allow himself to dismiss all the claims for just this reason.

Those girls were no doubt in pain, and he had seen his own wife fall into a deaf faint in the middle of court.

And she would never deceive him.

Good, honest Sarah with the blue eyes. She surely would not let her own mind be corrupted.

He wouldn't tell Sarah of his thoughts yet, for it would do no good for them both to be worried.

Now content with himself, John eyed his wife slowly.

She had changed for him, he knew it.

From her plain brown frock to a red wool dress she had received from her sister as a gift but she usually avoided wearing as a Reverend's wife because if fell outside what was considered proper and modest for their kind, being even shorter than her petticoat so a stripe of white was visible beneath the red skirt.

But none the less she knew her husband enjoyed seeing her in it, so if she wore it than it was only around the house to please him. Now she wore is as she knelt down to the ground at the edge of the woods where a healthy patch of wild flowers grew.

Dusk grew darker still as Sarah ceased to hear the fall of the axe or the splitting of the wood. Turning to look she found her husband staring at her with a familiar, and yet uncommon look in his eye.

"John?" She questioned his gaze as he crossed to her, kneeling to her level and wrapping an arm around her waist, kissing her firmly.

He needed a reprieve from his own mind if only for a few hours, an escape from the growing chaos of the courts.

Gasping at his show of forwardness Sarah froze a moment, stunned, before reciprocating.

Usually it was Sarah who had to rouse any intimate activity from her husband, not because he wasn't interested, but often he didn't feel comfortable sharing such things.

That was one of the only traits Sarah could have done without in her husband, he was painfully shy when it came to things out side of theology and facts.

He didn't freely share his opinion in conversation, and it was nearly impossible to have a lively debate with him over anything because he would cave so readily.

Abstract concepts stumped him easily, things such as emotion or philosophy or personal opinions were not readily available in his books so he could not give a definitively correct answer, so more often that not he did not give an answer at all.

So when it came to emotions outside of the basic Happiness, sadness, anger, and fear, he was at a bit of a loss; Especially when the topic at hand was the taboo subject of lust.

Even on their wedding night, it was the inexperienced Sarah who took the lead

But be that as it may that did not stop the Reverend's sudden passion for his wife as he leaned over her slightly, causing Sarah to lean back slowly until her arms could bend no more and she lay completely in the grass, surrounded by flowers with her bonnet strewn loosely.

As his passion grew further Sarah gazed up at the darkened sky where the stars had just started to appear.

For a moment she felt a peace, one with the world itself as she lay in the embrace of her lover on the grassy ground. The cool of the growing night conflicting with the heat of their bodies pressed together.

It did not occur to either of them, in the privacy of the back yard under the cover of growing darkness, over a mile away from the town and its inhabitants, to possibly move themselves indoors.

Who could possibly witness this?

Neither man nor woman could have possibly spotted the pair of spying brown eyes that watched curiously and almost enviously at that couple.

(The next morning)

"Goody Hale!"

Sarah, walking along the streets of the village with a smile on her face turned to find Abigail Williams rushing towards her.

"Abigail! What is wrong my child?"

"Nothing Ma'am." Abigail smiled anxiously. "But I wonder if I may ask you some questions."

"Of course, anything you like." Sarah nodded and Abigail looked around them awkwardly as the villagers went about their usual life.

"I wonder if we might speak somewhere more private?" she whispered and Sarah nodded as Abigail led her back to her Uncle's house which was empty with Parris being with the Judges and Betty being with Ruth.

"What did you want to ask me Abigail?" Sarah asked as the girl led her up to her bedroom.

"Goody Hale, I wish to ask you something a bit personal. And I hope you will not think less of me for asking such a thing." Abigail began and Sarah smiled a little.

"Curiosity is a natural thing at your age Abigail. Come, what is your question?"

Abigail took a deep breath. "How do I make a man love me? Really love me?"

Sarah blinked. "I uh…"

"I'm sorry it's just…I was coming to visit you last night." Abigail began and Sarah began to blush deeply.

"And I saw you and the Reverend in the back. Before I could clear my throat he started…uh…" Now Abigail was blushing, sure that the woman now thought her a sneak. "I'm sorry if…I left before…"

"I uh…it's alright child. It wasn't your fault." Sarah recovered for her mortification and tried to laugh it off, making Abigail more at ease.

"Anyway, you were just sitting there…you didn't even have to do or say anything and he just came to you. How do you do it?" She asked eagerly.

Sarah frowned and folded her hands. "Abigail, an unmarried girl such as you really shouldn't…"

"I know, but there is a man…and I _know_ he loves me as I love him…and yet he stays away." Her voice grew full of grief and sadness and Sarah touched her shoulder.

"Perhaps this man, he stays away because he feels there is something in the way. An obstacle of sorts…." Sarah suggested. "Something that must be overcome before you can be together."

Abigail thought and a smile spread across her face. "I think you may be right…exactly right." She laughed a little. "I was a fool not to see it before, thank you Goody Hale!" Abigail hugged Sarah tightly and Sarah, stunned at first, returned it softly.

"No, I must go. I have business to attend to." Sarah stood and patted Abigail's hands. "I wish you all the luck in the world my dear." She paused before she reached the door.

"Oh and uh, Abigail." She turned. "What you saw…in the house uh…I think that best stay between us, right? You know some people, well it wouldn't look well for a reverend and his wife."

"I understand" Abigail smiled and held her hand.

Feeling a kindred spirit within the Minister's wife, Abigail saw that Sarah was not unlike herself.

A creature of the flesh, who did not starve herself of pleasure for the sake of piety.

Mrs. Hale understood her, surely. Even if no one else, not even John Proctor, did.

Sarah left the house and returned into town to find a discouraging sight.

A quarrel had broken out between neighbors over a goat that had made its way into Goody Sibber's garden.

"Devil take you all!" The Widow yelled at the staring crowd. "All of you be damned!"

"Goody Sibber!" Sarah rushed to the gate of the garden as the woman turned "Is everything alright?"

At the sight of the Minister's wife Goody Sibber, recalling her previous words, began to sputter slightly.

"The goat was eating my food…I…I didn't." she finally managed to croak out and Sarah looked around at the crowd which had begun to disperse. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"Even so." Sarah whispered. "I think it wise for all to hold their tongues for now, considering the circumstances."

Ms. Sibber looked around at the people moving about the town and found herself fearfully agreeing with the minister's wife.

"Truly, truly." She muttered and glanced back in her house. "A good day to you Goody Hale."

"And to you as well Goody Sibber." Sarah barely finished her farewell before the women whisked back into her house


	9. Chapter 9

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

The next day, Goody Sibber stood before the court protesting her innocence as the crowd pointed fingers at her, but the girls remained oddly quiet. They suffered no attacks in her presence and only answer questions plainly.

The women was known for being a bit of a jaded spirit, having lost her eldest son in a sailing accident and her husband to fever.

She had a fast and sharp tongue and often did not think before the spoke.

But Sarah found herself unable to determine if the woman was a witch or not.

But all the same she was found guilty and sentenced to the jail until further punishment.

Meanwhile Sarah began to acquaint herself with the locals.

She knew a few, such as a man who often would trade his hunting furs in Beverly and his wife, but the rest were strangers to her and therefore she was often unable to judge them fairly in the courts.

She had suggested that John do the same but he feared growing close to anyone would make him biased, and rather passive aggressively implied the same would happen to her as she left for town.

But it was the next case three days later that planted the seed of doubt deep into her heart.

A mother and child, lacking a father and a husband.

At this point amongst the babbles is was nearly impossible to tell who the original accuser was, but Sarah heard them not.

She just stared at the child, who huddled fearfully in her mother's arms.

She had large blue eyes and a dirty face, but it appeared her hair was bright red as it peaked out occasionally from under her bonnet.

She could not have been older than eight or nine years old.

She may not have even fully understood what she was being yelled at for, only that she should be afraid of it.

Sarah felt her heart jerk and her face began to heat up.

Surely someone so young, so innocent, could not be swayed by evil. It simply was not possible.

But still the girls in the stands pointed their fingers and hurled accusations like arrows from bows.

And suddenly Sarah found herself thinking.

Where is the proof? What proof is there to say that this woman or her child had done any wrong?

But that was ludicrous, surely there was proof there must be so.

Or else they would not be there.

Danforth brought the court under control once more and looked at the mother and daughter on the stand.

"Naomi Getty, Mary Getty, you have both been accused of the supernatural crime of Witchcraft. What say you?"

"It is simply not so your Grace." Naomi stood and looked at the judges pleadingly. "I have worked honestly to provide for my daughter and brought her up to be a good Christian soul as I am myself."

There was some muttering among the crowd but Danforth's icy glare silenced it.

"Is there any here who would willingly testify to the character of these two?" Hawthorne inquired and the crowd looked around.

Sarah was on fire inside.

She wanted to stand.

She wanted to go before them and plead that such a young child cannot possibly be in league with Satan.

It went against everything she knew to be true.

But as much as she wanted to her body would not obey.

After the ruling the court was in recess and Sarah, unable to contain herself, rounded the church to the secluded back yard and leaned on the cool panels sucking in deep breaths and blowing them out.

"Sarah?"

She closed her eyes as the voice came from around the corner. She swallowed and straightened up, sniffing slightly.

"Yes, John?"

"Are you alright?" He peered around the corner to find his wife looking flustered and slightly ill.

"Oh uh…I'm fine it's just…"

She couldn't tell him, not after everything they had put into this.

He needed her.

He needed her to be strong and resolute when his soul wavered, just as he had always been for her.

"I am not feeling well, you know how I get sometimes. Headaches and such…" She shrugged it off with a sheepish smile. "I will be fine."

He frowned and approached her, pressing his hand to her neck and forehead gently. "You haven't a fever…" he hummed and looked into her eyes, which she resisted the urge to shift away lest he detect the falsehood.

But he seemed content with her explanation and nodded. "You should go to the house, rest…"

Sarah laughed. "You always say that, 'Go home and rest', one should think me an invalid."

"If you think you can hold out the rest of the day, you are welcome to." He assured her, but she bit her lip and shook her head.

"No, you are right. I will see you this evening." Sarah pressed her lips chastely to his cheek.

She started off just as court resumed, but had no intention of going home to rest.

Instead she needed to walk, and think.

And most of all pray.

She would never tell her Dear John this, but she never felt the Holy Spirit quite like she did in the wide open wilderness. With the shining sun as her altar and the wind, and birds, and all the sounds of nature as her hallelujah chorus.

There were no churches in the beginning, when Adam and Eve dwelled without sin. There was just the garden, and the animals within it.

A half an hour's walk from the house was a vast, untended field, most likely on the boundary of two properties.

As soon as she reached a spot that called to her she sunk to the ground, not kneeling as though she were in church or at home, but sitting with her thick skirts flooded out around her.

She looked around before reaching up slowly and releasing her hair from the constricting white bonnet she wore to preserve her modesty and let the warm spring sun shine on her scalp as her brown locks tumbled down her shoulders.

Slowly she laid back on to the ground and sighed deeply.

She remained completely silent and just listened.

That was something she felt people had forgotten to do, listen. They were too busy talking to listen close enough. Her mother told her that was why they left England, for a simple life in the new world where people were too busy surviving to talk so much.

It was her Mother who taught her to hear the voice of God everywhere, in the trees and in the water and in the animals.

Having been taught all her life that humans were made in Sin, Sarah's mind from a young age came to the conclusion that therefore their creations were made in sin as well.

So logically speaking, one would have to turn to Nature to find the Lord in his truest form.

She lay there, still as can be in utter silence. And she waited for guidance, for something to tell her what to do.

"Goody Hale?"

Her eyes shot open and she sprung up instantly to find Elizabeth Proctor hovering a few yards from her.

"Oh! Goody Proctor, I…" Sarah hastened to twist her hair back up into her bonnet while sputtering manically. "I apologize, I did not realize these were your lands I…"

"Don't worry." Elizabeth shook her head. "When I say you laying there with your eyes shut, I feared you had taken ill again."

"Oh, no! I was just uh…I was just…I mean it is hard to explain." Sarah blushed. To go outside the church for spiritual enlightenment was looked down upon.

"You needn't explain yourself to me, Goody Hale." Elizabeth assured her and looked down. "May I sit with you?"

"Oh, of course. Please…" Sarah nodded and Elizabeth smiled.

"Is there more news from the village then? About the trials?" She inquired and Sarah swallowed hard.

"I am sorry." Sarah whispered. "But I would really prefer not to speak on the trials right now, I beg your indulgence"

Elizabeth frowned deeply and put a bony hand to Sarah's own soft, plump one. "I understand."

"Thank you Goody Proctor."

"Elizabeth."

Sarah smiled and outstretched her hand, "Sarah"

Elizabeth shook her hand and nodded. "Is that why you came out here? You are discontented?"

Sarah nodded. "I always found that…it is easier for me to feel God's presence, outside of the house of God and in creation." She confessed. "That must sound strange but it is true."

"In these dark times, we must find light any place we can get it." Elizabeth agreed poetically and Sarah marveled at her with a smile.

"Amen."

Elizabeth nodded and sighed. "I must go back to the house, the boys are out with John in the fields. They will be hungry when they are done."

Sarah nodded. "I should head back as well, I told my husband I had a headache…It wasn't a lie, but I told him I would be resting."

Elizabeth helped her up and smiled. "You are always welcome here Sarah, in my home and on this land." She proclaimed to the younger woman and Sarah smiled fondly and patted her hands.

"Thank you Elizabeth, You have been most kind to me."

They parted ways with a silent agreement to maintain this friendship and Sarah returned to the house tired.

She set to roasting a hen carefully and thought on her time in the fields.

God had not spoken to her this time.

But this time she believed she knew why he declined her prayers.

Because she already knew what to do, she knew the right and proper path to take but she was too afraid to do it.

She had a few more hours to prepare herself.

She would bring it up with John tonight over supper.


	10. Chapter 10

Sarah had dinner set out and hot for John the instant he walked through the door, greeted by the aroma of roasted meat and warm cinder which she had taken great pains to prepare perfectly.

The minister looked to his wife to find her face and hands scrubbed clean and rosy as her plump fingers arranged a small bunch of flowers on the table.

"Feeling better my wife?" he asked, feeling out her hidden motives.

Oh yes, there was one. The house was cleaner than when they moved in, the fire was healthy and cheerful, and dinner was of a quality usually reserved for celebrations or visitors.

Either she had bad news, good news, or she wanted something.

"Much better." she smiled in a tone too chipper. "Supper is ready, come eat."

"Right" John scanned her, she wasn't waltzing about but she wasn't forcing back tears either. She was anxious, that was for sure.

"Oh here dear" she rushed to remove his coat and hat. "Go sit."

He obeyed carefully.

"You must be exhausted from court, John" she sighed sympathetically as she poured his cup with cider.

He said nothing as she served the cooked bird. "Did you... Did you rest well?" he finally asked and she smiled.

"Actually I went for a walk. In the fields." she spoke carefully as she rose to the windows to open them and air out the room. "I had some thinking to do..."

She led off and rounded behind him, her nimble fingers on his shoulders and gently worked the muscles in his back and shoulders and neck.

"Oh?" He struggled to keep his wits as her touch soothed his tight, aching body.

"Yes, I was thinking on the trials today." she began to rub the ball of her palm in a circle between his shoulder blades.

"Yes? What about them?" he breathed carefully.

"One of the accused... Something about them bothered me." she confessed seriously. "I think it should be revisited."

John tightened up and she instantly soothed the clenched muscle. "Which one?" he asked in a curious yet sharp tone.

Sarah stopped running and sighed, sitting in the chair next to him. "Mary Getty, John."

He froze and nodded in a tired short of way as if he had seen this coming.

"Sarah..."

"She was but a child, John. A little girl." She plead with him. "I know you saw her as well. How afraid she was... Please John."

"I can do nothing unless she and her mother confess, you know that."

"She's eight years old."

"I know"

"She does not belong in that jail."

"If she confesses..."

Sarah growled in exasperation and stood her hands over her head. "I thought you of all people would be ready with compassion."

John glared at her heatedly. "Be careful how you go Sarah. I am still your husband...Sarah! "

Sarah shook her head and made to move to the stairs in an angry huff but she stopped when he barked her name in an unusually harsh growl. Slowly she turned to face him with her hands folded primly but her face drawn tightly.

"Yes John?"

His features softened slightly but still remained sharp. "I wish not to fight with you... I understand you pity these people but you must also understand how the courts work. Do not be angry with me for it."

She smiled sardonically, "how could I ever be angry with you, John? Husband, Lord, and Liege." she spat the words like poison before brushing past him and toward the table.

She carved a thick slice of meat off the bird as well as a goodly chunk of bread.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to the jail" she spoke plainly as she folded the food into a cloth napkin. "I'm going to talk to Naomi Gettys and convince her to confess for the sake of both her and her child."

John sighed, "Sarah, please. It is dark outside. Wait you a while." He urged her, taking her arm firmly. "Just until dawn, then if you still wish to go I shall go with you myself."

Sarah looked out the window and sighed. It was nearly pitch black with no moon to guide her and a thick layer of clouds blocking the starlight.

The air smelled of spring rain not far off and the woman swallowed but nodded reluctantly. "First thing in the morning." she muttered and John smiled a little, glad she had been swayed if only a little.

"Come" he tugged her away gently "you went through all this trouble to cook such a wonderful meal. Perhaps after I shall read to you?" He tried to tempt her mind away from its goal in an attempt to ease the tension.

She stiffly made for the table and ate in silence, avoiding his gaze until she was finished and took both plates to clean. As she hovered over the basin of water John sighed and came from behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Pray, do not be angry with me my dear." He entreated her. "I should not have snapped as I did, but you must understand courts do not run on hunches and feelings. Only on fact and evidence."

Sarah breathed and nodded. "I know." She swallowed hard.

John grunted and pulled her away from the bucket and turned her so she was flush against his chest. "You cannot be mother to every child in this village." He whispered and Sarah frowned.

"I can try to be."

Sarah did not sleep that night, laying in the darkness with her back to her husband. She stared out the window thinking of the little Gettys girl, how afraid she must be.

She must have gotten up a dozen times, if only to pace the floor not know that every time she caused the bed to shift John woke up as well, only to fall right back to sleep.

By dawn Sarah was fully dressed and had the horses and carriage prepared the instant John left the bedroom with a confused look on his face.

"Morning." She nodded as he sat at the table. "Sleep well?"

"Better than you, I would imagine." He eyed his wife critically. "And I suppose it would be the acme of foolishness to assume you have changed your mind since last night."

"You would assume correctly." She nodded and placed a slice of dense bread with meat and cheese in front of him. "Eat up, we leave soon."

He grumbled as he ate but placed his large hat on his head with a sighed when he had finished and made for the carriage where Sarah was already waiting for him. The Massachusetts spring morning was colder than normal and Sarah had a small basket of food to take to the prison.

"They won't let you see her alone, you know that." John told her and Sarah shrugged.

"Then I shall see her in the jail. I care not the location only that I may speak to her." She said firmly as the town came into sight and Sarah took a deep breath. She tried to convince herself that Naomi would accept the circumstances understandingly but she knew she would be faced with resistance.

As she left John to go to the jail she was stopped by a guard who eyed her before letting her pass with a respectful nod.

Naomi and Mary sat in chains among the other accused, not a dirty as they were but equally miserable.

"Goody Gettys" Sarah approached them and pulled out a thick slice of bread. "I have come to speak to you."

"Goody Hale" Naomi's wide blue eyes stared at her. "Please you, Ma'am. You must speak to the judges! I am no witch! Nor is Mary."

"Sh, sh, I know" Sarah hushed her. "But there is nothing I can do for you as of yet, except tell you to confess."

"I cannot lie."

"I understand but please list me Naomi. For the sake of your child, I must insist that you allow me to take Mary before the judges and let her confess." Sarah begged and Naomi began to protest.

"Have her lie? In a house of god?"

"I know it is not ideal, but look at her Naomi." Sarah motioned to the sleeping child on her mother's lap. "If she confesses, I will take her into my home. She is youngly yet and the stain will not follow her forever."

Naomi thought on this and closed her eyes with a tight frown etched across her face. "You will take her in?"

"I swear it Naomi. Please" Sarah whispered. "For the sake of Mary."

The mother nodded and looked up the Minister's wife with a tired sadness in her eyes. "I will let her confess, though it not be true. But I cannot confess myself, I cannot."

Sarah nodded and looked to the child. "I should like to take her today, I will try to speak to Judge Hawthorn and Judge Danforth. With Luck she will be out by this evening."

Naomi still frowned, but she stroked her child's fiery red locks that had spilled out from her bonnet. "She cannot stay in the village. It won't be safe."

Sarah sighed and nodded. "I have a good friend in Beverly, I will see if she will take her in until this is all over."

Naomi nodded and looked up. "Thank you Goody Hale, I shall keep you in my prayers."

"You in mine, Naomi." Sarah set the basket of food beside her. "I shall return when I have the Judge's permission. Until then remain strong, and trust in the Lord."

She stood and left the jail quickly, her heart full of sadness at the pained look on the mother's face, but also full of hope that she forced herself to cling to that the judge would be sympathetic to her plight.


	11. Chapter 11

**So I know it's been a while but I've been really busy recently but I have some time right now so here we go.I know it's not very long but I'm sort of running on limited time here.**

It took hours of demoralizing subjugation on Sarah's part to finally convince the officers of the court that Mary Gettys would be better off in the care of the Minister's Wife than in the jail but at the end of the day it still ended in tears as with a heavy heart, Sarah tried to pull Mary away from her mother in the jail.

"Be brave my girl" Naomi told her daughter after a final embrace as Sarah led the girl by the hand out of the jail. Word had gotten out among the Salemites and a crowd had gathered outside the jail expressing mixed feelings about the arrangement.

"Look at the ground child" Sarah whispered to her and picked the girl up for her own safety in case someone tried to grab her or harm her in anyway. She could feel Mary tremble in her arms and Sarah's own maternal instincts kicked in instantly, her grip tightened on her and her pace picked up until she reached the carriage and set Mary on the seat before pulling herself up.

Thankfully the crowd did not follow them as they took off. Mary sat on the seat like a little doll, traumatized by her ordeal. Sarah dearly wanted to hold the girl, to tell her everything would be alright and that she was safe. She wanted to mother Mary where her own mother could not.

They reached the house in silence and Mary followed Sarah in the door, grasping at her skirts with a single tight fist. Mary was still filthy from sleeping on the dirt floor of the jail and Sarah frowned.

"Let's get you cleaned up, huh?" she whispered and sat the girl at the table before filling up a pot with water to warm for a bath. Mary's little frock and apron were dirty as well and Sarah had her remove them and wrapped the child in a quilt to cover her as she washed them.

"When is mama getting out?" she spoke her first words since she left the jail.

Sarah froze, her grip tightening on the small scrub brush she was using on the wool of her skirt. "I'm not sure Mary, soon I think."

"My mama isn't a witch" Mary said with surprising firmness and a flash of anger in her young eyes. Sarah turned sharply.

"I know" She assured Mary, "I know she isn't Mary. Your mama is a very good person, I'm sure she is." Sarah wasn't sure. She hardly knew Naomi Gettys but she didn't want Mary to think that she didn't like her mama.

"Then why did they put her in jail? Mama didn't hurt anyone."

"I…" Sarah bit her lip. How could she explain this without contradicting herself "Sometimes, when people are afraid? When bad things happen, they want to blame someone. Someone blamed you and your mama for something, and that's why she's there."

"But she didn't do anything!" Mary sobs and Sarah's heart strings strained.

"I know, I know Mary and we must pray that the courts understand that." Sarah cupped her face with soapy hands. "And I'm sure that God will make everything right."

"Why did God let them but mama in jail?" Mary demanded. "Mama loves God, why did God let it happen?"

"That's not how it…" Sarah sputtered, her cheeks growing red

"Doesn't God love us anymore?"

"Of course he does but…" Sarah swallowed and blinked, her stomach doing summersaults inside of her before she straightened up. "Now look." She said firmly. "It is not for us to know why God does what He does. And getting all worked up like this will do no good. Now hush for a while."

Mary sealed her lips obediently as Sarah sighed with regret and poured the now warm water in the metal tub. "Alright, now come along." Mary sat in the tub as Sarah took a clean rag to her skin with plain soap and scrubbed off the grime and dirt from her young skin. She hung the girl's clothes out to dry but kept her underdress aside beside a fire in the hearth.

Mary didn't attempt to ask any more questions and part of Sarah was grateful for that much as she sat Mary in front of the fire in her little white dress and took a brush to her red mats of hair.

She tried not to pull too had but every so often Mary let out a small squeak until it was all brushed out and Sarah could braid two long red braids down her back.

There was a knock at the door and Sarah left Mary by the hearth to answer it.

"Abigail." Sarah blinked. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in court?"

The teen smiled a little "it is in recess for now. I wanted to check on Mary."

Sarah sighed and nodded. "Yes, come in." She was thankful for Abigail's arrival actually.

"Mary." She called. "There is someone here to see you."

Mary turned to look and for a second her blue eyes flickered slightly. A smile spread across Abigail's face that made the hair on the girl's arms stand up but was unseen by Mrs. Hale.

Abigail had watched them go from the jail and she had seen how Goody Hale held onto the girl with such protectiveness.

The sight had sent a thorn of anger into Abby's heart in the same way that she felt such indignation when Elizabeth Proctor had to gall to bring John and their brood into town or into church to flaunt before her.

It was a cruelty and an insult she just could not allow.

"Hello Mary." Abby knelt by the girl but still hovered over her like a shadow. "I wanted to come make sure you were okay."

At that moment there was a violently loud whine from the horse stable. "What on earth…?" Sarah looked out the window and could see the two horses rearing back in the stables and shaking their heads.

"You two stay here, I'll be right back." She told them and slipped out to check on the horses.

As Sarah retreated Abby turned to Mary with a much less cheerful look on her face.

Sarah ran for the stables and stumbled back as the horse kicked its front legs again. She tried to calm the animal before noticing a dark coil in the yellow straw.

Sarah gasped and jumped back as the serpent raised up defensively and hissed. With a hard swallow Sarah reached for the hay fork on the wall and with trembling hands managed to pick up the black snake and toss it out of the stable and into the brush.

With the serpent gone the beasts settled and Sarah nodded whilst breathing heavily. She returned to the house to find Abigail sitting in a chair with Mary stared at the fire with her back to the door.

"Abigail, you had better return to town in case the court starts up again my dear." Sarah informed the teen who blinked before nodding.

"Good day Goody Hale." She smiled and she and Sarah shared a friendly parting kiss on the cheek before Abby turned to Mary's lithe back. "Goodbye Mary."

Mary didn't say anything as Abigail left.

Once the house was out of sight Abigail looked ahead of her and saw Mary Warren waiting for her with a worried expression.

"Did you toss the snake in the stable?" the dark haired teen asked and the girl nodded.

"Yes, but Abby we really shouldn't have done that. Goody Hale could have been bitten!"

"She wasn't. It worked perfectly and Mary Gettys won't talk to anyone I made sure of it. Now remember." Abby shook her bony finger at Mary. "Not a single word to anyone, understand?"

Mary nodded with a fearful look in her eyes as they headed back into town.

"Good, now we'll meet back her after dark. And _don't_ let anyone see you."


End file.
